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The end of the week finally comes and me and Stiles get ready to break the law. I feel bad for dragging Stiles along as, if he's caught, he can lose his job. And of course we'll both end up in prison.
We spent the last four days studying Zack's -Jess' ex-boyfriend- routine, to make sure we know exactly what he does on his nights, what rooms he stays in and then what time his lights go off. We figured it's lights out at 12:30. So at the moment it's 11:45pm and all my body begs me to do right now is sleep and scrap the plan completely. But we all know that this is what we need to do. I dress in a black, casual, free-flow dress that sleeves reach to my wrists and black tights to keep me warm. I put a black beanie on too for dramatic affect.
"Baby, you ready?" Stiles says as he walks into the room from our bathroom as he puts his jacket on, zipping it up. I sigh and nod, still feeling guilty for him, he has work as well tomorrow so he has to be up early. "You okay?"
"Yeah, it's just... What if we're caught? That's your job out the window." I sigh, for some reason feeling my bottom lip tremble as tears fill my eyes despite not feeling that bad about it to cry.
"Hey, hey," Stiles says soothingly, he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, "We won't get caught, and if we do? I say to hell with my job, and to hell with Beacon Hills." He jokes, which makes me smile a little and I nod biting my lip.
"And if we don't get caught, then this breakdown wouldn't of been necessary." I try to joke back, Stiles smiles and nods, pressing a kiss to my forehead and enveloping me in his arms. We stand like it for a while, until he draws back to look at me, my hand cradles his face, in the spot where a finger sits below his ear and then the others rest above it.
"Lydia, I love you, okay? And if we get caught that won't change a thing." He tells me softly, his had gripping my ribs tightly. I nod fiercely then I press my lips to his pulling him into me by bunching his shirt in my fists.
"I love you too." I tell him when we pull back for air, he nods and smiles sweetly at me, a reassuring smile that comforts me all the damn time. So we make our way to his house and sit in the car and as it nears 12:30 we get ready for his light to go off.
"So you know what we're looking for, right?" Stiles checks as he looks between me and Zack's bedroom window.
"Obviously." I roll my eyes, Stiles see's this and practically pounces on me, moving swiftly in his seat and grabbing my arms.
"I don't appreciate the sarcasm right now." He smirks. His facial expression sends a rush of heat through me, suddenly finding him extremely attractive in this minute. His forehead touches mine and our lips are about to connect when Zack's light goes off and the moment between us has passed.
"C'mon," Stiles whispers as he gets out of the car and gently lets the door click, then I follow his lead. We carefully but quickly run across his front yard to his side gate that should lead to a door around the back.
We're about to open the gate when we notice a great big padlock sitting on the lock.
"Shit." Stiles curses under his breath, he looks around on the floor, then finding a rock raises his arm to break the padlock, I stop him urgently.
"Stiles!" I half whisper, half yell. He looks at me, confused why I stopped him, "Are you out of your fucking mind?" I say, annoyed at his stupidity, "That would've made the loudest noise that would've woke the whole neighborhood! Not to mention when he finds his lock has been smashed he'll suspect something happened!"
Stiles looks at me then drops the rock as if he doesn't know why he picked it up in the first place. "God, sorry I wasn't thinking." He says shaking his head.
"We'll have to climb over." I whisper, biting my lip. There's a ledge on the side that takes about half a meter off from the ground, but still my short legs won't be able to climb over it.
"Stand on there," Stiles instructs me, I grab hold of the top of the wooden gate, finding it muddy, wet and probably crawling with spiders. Then I put my weight onto one foot and push up on the ledge trying to find leverage but my boots are too wide for the ledge and I don't have the strength, it's not like I've been training recently. "No, like this, Lydia." Stiles says, he holds onto my foot and place it on the side, so that only my toes rest there. Then he informs me that now I grab hold of the top and push myself up, I do so and it works better than before.
"Now you have to try to get one of your legs over," He tells me, his breath making clouds in the air. I hoist a leg over and find a dip in the wood that allows it to stay there, but before I can start pushing myself up, Stiles' hands are on me, making sure I don't fall. He pushes me gently and effortlessly and I find myself straddling the gate which is icy against me. And I'm pretty sure I'll have a splinter in my bum.
"I have to say," I sigh as I shift my other leg over, "It's a lot more comfortable straddling you."
"Now's not the time for sex jokes, Lydia." Stiles says, but I hear the smile in his voice.
"Stiles, you'll have to climb over too," I say once I've landed, "There's no lock on this side that can open it."
I hear him mutter a 'fuck' under his breath, then I see his hands at the top of the gate and he pushes himself up easily, compared to him I must of looked like a hippo getting over there. He lands with a soft thump and dusts his hands off, I do the same trying my best to get the mud off.
He puts a finger to his lips as if to say 'no talking now', he takes my hand and we quietly walk around to his back door, hoping it to be unlocked. Stiles gently pushes the handle down but finds the door locked. I reach into my bra and pull out a hair grip and give it to Stiles.
"You want me to pick a lock after its been down your bra? I'm sorry but I don't have that much control!" Stiles whispers, he hands me the grip and I roll my eyes.
I bend down and shove the hair grip into the lock, wiggle it tactically around then with a small click the door pops open, I smile at Stiles. We step in quietly making sure our shoes don't make noise or leave prints on the floor.
"Upstairs." Stiles mouths as we walk farther in, phones in our hand ready to be used for a little light. It takes- what feels like an eternity -to get upstairs as we walking so slowly making sure we don't step on the wrong floorboard. Then I realize I've lost all bearings of the house and I can't tell which room is which.
"Stiles," I say as quietly as human possible, he turns to me so I press my mouth against his ear, "What side of the house is which?"
Stiles points to our left, "Front." He whispers, his breath ghosting my neck, then points to the right, "Back, where we just came from."
I nod, my body filling with relief when he tells me that. At least Stiles has it together. We make our way to a room that's situated furthest away from his bedroom, however it's opposite the bathroom, so if we needs to pee we are utterly screwed.
Stiles opens the door, earning a small squeak, but other than that it opens and closes quietly. Stiles takes my hand as we navigate the dark room, which we wait in for while, quiet and stood next together to make sure that if Zack had heard anything he's settled again. Around ten minutes pass until we decide it's safe to put our torches on our phones and look around the room.
The room resembles a study, with a desk in one corner, and the rest of the walls lined with bookcases, except from a closet to the side which looks like a good hiding place.
"Search the book cases, I've got the desk covered." Stiles whispers, I nod and walk cautiously over to the one closest to the desk, then let my eyes scan the book spines. It's not until I get to the third bookcase until I find anything of use. It's like he has the whole shelf dedicated to the supernatural world we live in as its filled with mythology books and at the end sits a big, dusty velvet covered book with a spine so fat it takes up half the space.
"Stiles," I begin to whisper but that's when I hear a creak from down the hall and the hallway light flickers on. My heart jumps to my throat.
Stiles' eyes widen and points to the closest, his face has suddenly become pale. We tip-toe/run over to the closest and get inside and last minute turn our torches off. My face is inches away from Stiles' chest and I have a hand over my mouth and Stiles' as we stand frozen in fear.. The bathroom door creaks open, then he walks inside. I almost let myself sigh but Stiles squeezes my arm.
He presses his lips so close to my ear, I almost laugh at how tickley it feels, "It's a trap." I nod and stay put, my breath caught in my throat and my shoulders rigid in fear. And Stiles was right, it was a trap because about two minutes later the door creaks open and I swear I can hear my own heart beating.
The light comes on and floods the crack beneath the door, which we didn't think about because if she looks under it, he'll see two shadows beneath it. I look at Stiles in panic. Swiftly, he pulls his jacket it off, quietly placing it on the floor and stuffing the crack.
"Jess?" We hear Zack call out. I exchange a worrying glance with Stiles who has his brows furrowed. Did this mean she was still alive? Or that he could talk to the dead?
"Of course it's not." We hear him again, his voice a croak, then the light goes off and he shuts the door, I let my hands fall from our mouths.
"Wait." Stiles whispers to me before I reach the door. We stay in the closet for quite some time after making sure he goes back to bed and goes to sleep. Stiles gives me a nod when he thinks the coast is clear and we step out of the closet to meet pitch darkness. I unlock my phone and produce my torch, the room still untouched.
"Another five minutes, then we're out of here." Stiles informs me, I nod and go back to the book shelves, quickly flicking through some of the supernatural books. When I reach the Bestiaire I see he has a piece of ribbon marking a page. The page of banshee's. I take my phone and photograph the page before putting it down. I quickly scan the rest of the shelves, he has nothing else of the sort. So I join Stiles by the desk.
"Stiles, that's mountain ash..." I whisper, pointing to a jar, then as Stiles moves more paper he has other jars and pots full with powders, dusts and liquids.
"Wolfsbane." I hear Stiles mutter under his breath. We put everything back where we found it, then make our way back out. We tip-toe down the stairs, jump back over the gate and then we're safely back in the car, as soon as we sit in it we both breathe a sigh of relief, as if we'd been holding it all that time.
"We need to evaluate this," Stiles says, pulling away from the curb and driving off down the street, "We're going to the station."
We arrive there at 2:30am, after stopping for ice cream. When we enter, Parrish is at the desk, half asleep waiting by the phone. His eyes snap open when he sees us.
"Stiles? Lydia?"
"Listen, why don't you go home?" Stiles tells him, patting his shoulder, "You look like shit and, well me and Lydia'll be here."
Parrish half laughs and half sighs in relief, then he says "Goodnight." Then leaves.
Me and Stiles go into the Sheriff's office where Stiles gets an A4 notebook out to collect together what we found.
"Before we make notes, or whatever, maybe we should talk about the fact when Zack came in he called out Jess' name?" I say to Stiles.
"Oh right, yeah. What are you thinking?"
"If he thought it was her," I begin, "Then he must of thought she could, perhaps, come back to life."
"Or he's going a little delirious..." Stiles suggests, chewing on the pen lid.
"Stiles," I tell him seriously, "If she was supernatural there's a strong chance she can live forever, if she can heal."
"You don't heal and you're supernatural." Stiles tells me, I sigh and shake my head, he has a point.
"But look," I say digging my phone out, showing him the picture of the bestiaire that's page was marked on banshee's. "Stiles, I am telling you she was a banshee, and I bet you all the other girls were too."
"Is this one of your feelings?" Stiles asks, his tired eyes staring into mine. I nod and I reach out to hold Stiles' hand.
"Stiles don't start doubting me now." I whisper.
"You know I'm not, baby." He tells me softly, bringing my hand to his lips where he peppers it with kisses.
"I'm telling you she was a banshee, I know it. I felt it."
"Okay, so what'd we find?" Stiles asks, nodding, he lets go of my hand and picks his pen up, running a hand through his hair.
"Start with what you found," I begin to tell Stiles. We spend the next hour going through everything we've found and analyzing what it could all mean, and if maybe Zack was something supernatural or not. But we come to the conclusion he wasn't as I may of been able to feel something if he was, and since I didn't we thought that he was a human.
The early hours of the morning stretch out before us, and part of me wishes we had gone home instead, because there is something about the station lately that's making me feel morbid. Not in a banshee way but in a way where everything goes wrong, any lead we think we have fails, where we analyze data for supernatural cases and there's filing cabinets full with unsolved 'murder' cases. The place is full of mystery and unanswered questions.
"What time do you have to be in today?" I yawn as we start packing away our things, the clock reads 6:30am.
"9 O'Clock." Stiles sighs, putting a hand on the small of my back as we walk out.
"Maybe-" I start but the ringing of the phone stops me and Stiles goes over to the main desk to answer it. He answers with simple 'Yes' or 'No's' leaving me clueless to the conversation happening.
"Okay, we'll send someone out as soon as we can." He says before putting the phone done. When he puts it down he keeps his hand on there, as if he thinks not taking it off helps what he's just heard.
"Stiles?"
"There's been another suicide." Stiles tells me, his voice low and his eyes scan me, waiting for my reaction.
I don't say anything but my mouth goes dry and my head hangs low. There has to be something more simple behind this case than we're thinking, because so easily these people are dying one by one, these girls are dying.
"Was it a girl?" I ask Stiles when my voice somehow finds its way back to my throat. Stiles nods and I bite my lip. My heart sinks when I see how tired Stiles looks. And I'm tired too. Tired of living in a dangerous world where no supernatural being can just abstain from killing. It seems as though everything every supernatural is thirsty for power, and to get power they do the only thing they're capable of doing. Murder.